Monday, November 28, 2011

LOST episode (post-finale): Letting Go

INTRODUCTION - Please read first: This episode is based on the ABC series LOST and takes place directly after the finale. It's my version of "what happened next". Disclaimer: If you are not familiar with the series, the following characters were established during the series (and thus their relationships and backstories are already established as well) and the following epsiode may give away details that occurred during the series itself (in case you are planning on watching it at some point, which I recommend!).

A fire crackles in the background. Shadows cover the form of a man who lies on his back, a ratty blanket tossed over him. The man groans slightly.

Hurley appears from the shadows, his face anxious. He bends down beside the man. “Dude… are you OK?”

The man blinks. It is Desmond, his face haggard. He peers at Hurley without recognition. “Where am I?”

Hurley smiles sympathetically. “You’re on the island.”

Desmond closes his eyes as if to wish this realization away. “Here --- help me up, Hurley ---” Desmond attempts to lift himself up, but winces in pain.

“You might want to take it easy, dude. I have no idea what happened to you down in the cave and everything, but you’ve been knocked out for like 24 hours straight…”

“Twenty-four hours?” Desmond’s eyes widen. “How --- how am I here? How am I… alive? Where’s Jack? I have to tell him that I was wrong! That it didn’t work!”


Hurley’s face softens. “Dude… Jack…”  He can’t finish the statement and looks away.

Desmond grabs Hurley’s arm, his eyes frantic. “What happened, Hurley?”

Hurley turns to Desmond, a tear-filled smile on his face. “He did it. Jack did it. He saved us.”

Desmond releases Hurley’s arm, his hand shaking. “Saved us? How?”

“He killed Locke… well not Locke, but the bad Locke. And he went into the cave... and the Light came back….and…”

“And what, Hurley?”

A familiar voice breaks from the darkness. “And he died, Desmond. He died so we could live.”

Desmond’s eyes flash at the sound of the familiar voice – the voice of Ben Linus. Turning his head towards the fire, Desmond sees Ben sitting by the fire, a calm look on his tired face as he stares into the flames. Ben looks up and meets Desmond’s glare.

“You!” cries Desmond. “Hurley --- what are you doing with him?”

Hurley looks at Desmond, and a hidden wisdom shines within Hurley’s eyes. His voice is calm as he responds. “It’s OK dude, Ben’s with me.”

“This man tried to kill my wife!” With fisted hands Desmond jumps to his feet but instantly crumples to the ground, crying in pain.

“Whoa! Don’t move!” Hurley shouts, putting his hands on Desmond. “You’re not better yet. You need to take it easy.” Hurley turns to Ben, worry lining his face. “We need a doctor or something…” His face grows somber.

“Either he goes, or I do,” Desmond snarls between gasps of pain. “Hurley!”

Ben smiles softy at Hurley. “It’s OK. I was thinking of taking a walk anyway.”

“Wait.” Hurley turns to Desmond. “We can trust him, Desmond. He helped us in the end --- he did the right thing.”

Desmond rolls over, his breathing staggered. With skeptical eyes he regards Hurley. “And how exactly did he help us in the end?”

“Well, he --- he came along --- he had a walkie-talkie, and… he did something....” Hurley shakes his head. “It all happened so fast. I know he helped us, though.” Hurley turns to Ben. “Help me out, dude.”

Ben smiles from the darkness. “It’s OK, Hurley. Desmond has a right to judge me.”

“No, dude.” Hurley turns back to Desmond. “Trust me on this, Desmond… I think I know what I’m doing.”

“Aye? And why’s that?”

“I—I... It’s just ---,” Hurley pauses. “The island chose me, dude. So I guess I… I guess I must know what I’m doing. Don’t you think?”

The fire crackles as a short silence follows Hurley’s words.

A dry smile crosses Desmond’s lips. “I thought I knew what I was doing too, brutha... I thought I could take us to a better place, a place where we would all find happiness. I saw it.” Desmond pauses. “But I was wrong. It was a dream. It wasn’t real.” His eyes focus on Hurley. “The island… it makes us think that we know what we’re doing, and why we’re doing it, but…” He laughs bitterly. “We don’t.”

It seems as if Desmond is about to say something more, but his eyes flicker and he falls back to sleep. Hurley looks at Ben, concern on his face.

Ben puts his hands in his pockets. “I’ll get some more firewood.” With that, he disappears into the jungle.

Swoosh-sound: FLASHSIDEWAYS

Ben walks into his house in a brown tweed suit, his satchel on his shoulder. He washes his hands in the kitchen sink and opens the refrigerator.

“A woman called.”

Ben closes the refrigerator door and sees his father Roger hooked up to his oxygen tank as he sits at the kitchen table, playing solitaire. A sly smile is on his face. “She said yes to dinner tonight.”

“It’s not what you think,” Ben says, reaching into the refrigerator. He takes out a quart of mile and pours a glass. “Her daughter is a student in my class, and she just got into Yale. So we’re celebrating.”

Roger smiles but does not look up. “Well, whatever the reason, she sounded pretty excited about tonight.”

Ben motions towards the milk. “Do you want a drink?”

“You know I’m game for that, son.”

Ben gives his father a knowing look. “Not that kind of drink.” Ben pours a second glass of milk.

“Well, it was worth a shot, right?”

Ben sits down across from his father. He looks at him for a long moment as he plays solitaire. “It’s good having you here, dad.”

Roger looks up, surprise in his face at Ben’s earnest remark. “It’s good being here, son. But… since you brought it up…and that call from the woman… it got me thinking. I --- I hope I’m not a burden, Ben.”

“Dad ---”

“No, no. I need to say this. You’ve taken care of me for a long time now, Ben. And God knows I don’t deserve it… that I don’t deserve you, son. You’ve been good to me, and through some hard times…”

“Please.”

“Ben --- you deserve someone in your life. And I don’t mean a grumpy old crank like me.”

“You’re not a crank.”

“No? Well, could’a fooled me.” Roger laughs self-depreciatingly. His voice grows serious as he meets his son’s gaze. “Ben, you’re the best goddamn teacher I know, and what you’ve given to those students over the years… what you’ve given to this community – it amazes me.” Roger smiles at Ben’s surprise. “I’m not a complete recluse, son. I get out now and then. I hear things, talk to people. Heck, I’ve seen the letters from students and parents, pouring with thanks and admiration. You’ve taken care of people, Ben. You got that from your mother, you know.”

Ben removes his glasses, smiles almost painfully. “I appreciate it, dad ---”

“And it’s high-time someone took care of you.”

Ben’s smile fades. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Hell you don’t deserve it!” Roger takes a deep breath from his oxygen tank. “I see a lot of my own stubbornness in you, Ben. Always have. But this time, you’ve got to let go. It’s OK. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”   

Ben moves his hands towards his fathers’, but draws them away before they touch. “That woman that called – Danielle – I’d like you to meet her tonight. And her daughter.”

Roger looks up in surprise. “I don’t know if I’m up for that tonight.”

“It’s important to me,” Ben says.

Ben’s father shrugs good-naturedly. “Alright, Ben. But I’ve gotta change. And you’re driving.”

“Of course I’m driving.”

“And maybe we can finish this father-and-son talk on the ride, what do you say?”

Ben nods, and begins to help his father up.

Swoosh-sound: ISLANDTIME

Embers from the fire glow in the gray of morning. Desmond is asleep. Hurley kneels down to give him some water.

“Hold up, Hurley!” Ben calls, emerging from the jungle with an armful of fruit. “Unless you want to make Desmond the new guardian of the island.”

Hurley looks at the water bottle in his hand with astonishment. “Duuuude. Do you think –if I gave him the water --?”

Ben smiles. “Something tells me it doesn’t always work that way. But we may want to be cautious until we know for sure. Just in case.”

“Yeah, good call. You can be in charge of the water for a while.” Hurley hands Ben the water bottle.

Ben kneels down and gives Desmond a drink from a different container.

Hurley shakes his head ruefully. “Good thing he’s still asleep. I don’t think he’d be too happy if he woke up and saw you leaning over him.”

Ben sits back on his haunches and caps the water bottle. “No, he probably wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“But he’ll appreciate it later, once we get him to trust you --- hey!” A rustle in the brush catches their attention and suddenly a yellow Labrador Retriever breaks through the foliage. “Vincent! Here boy!”

Vincent runs up to Hurley and nearly knocks him over. Hurley laughs as Vincent licks his face.

“What are you doing here, boy? Huh?”

A man emerges into camp, a knobby walking stick in his grizzled hand. “Hi Hurley,” he says, his bearded-face revealing a kindly smile.

“Bernard!” Hurley breaks free from Vincent and lumbers over to the newcomer. Wrapping the former dentist in a bear hug, he buries his face in his shoulder.

“Whoa, Hurley, whoa!” Bernard says, laughing. “That’s quite a grip you’ve got there.”

Hurley breaks away, blinking tears from his eyes. “Sorry…” He shrugs nonchalantly. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, dude.” He wipes the tears away quickly. “Ahhh… how’s Rose?”

“She’s fine, just fine. A little shaken up from Locke’s visit, and then the earthquake, and the jet plane that roared across the sky overhead…”

“Yeah. There’s been some pretty heavy stuff going on,” Hurley says.

“Heavy. Exactly.” Bernard looks past Hurley and his smile tightens. “Ben.”

“We can trust him, dude. He helped us,” Hurley says.

“If you say so, Hurley.” Looking beside Ben, Bernard’s brow furrows in concern.

“Who’s that?”

“Desmond.”

“Desmond! Is he OK? He didn’t fall down another well, did he?”

“Well, sort of, actually,” Hurley says. “It wasn’t exactly a well, though. I think he’ll be OK, but we don’t have a doctor…” Hurley’s voice drops off abruptly.

Bernard puts his hand on Hurley’s shoulder. This time, it’s his eyes that glimmer. “Vincent found something…someone, in the jungle.”

“What do you mean?”

Ben stands up from behind Hurley, and his movement stirs Desmond awake.

“Vincent found Jack.”

Hurley looks at Bernard, his eyes wide.

“He made it out of the cave?” Ben asks, incredulous. “How – how is he?” Ben’s voice drops away as the answer becomes clear in Bernard’s face.

Bernard looks at Hurley. “I know how much he meant to you, Hurley. How much… he meant to us all.”

After a moment, Hurley bends down to Vincent and looks into the dog’s eyes. “Good dog, Vincent… good dog for finding Jack. For helping us bring him home.” Tears shine in Hurley’s eyes. “We need to bury him.”

“I know,” Bernard says. “That’s why I came to find you. Turns out I didn’t have to look too hard with Vincent leading the way.”

A sudden movement behind Hurley causes everyone to turn. Desmond is standing, his face haggard, but resolute. “I’m coming with you.”

“Dude… what are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Desmond glances at Ben, and then steps past. His step is shaky, and he lays a hand on Hurley’s shoulder for support.

“Dude, maybe you should just rest ---”

“Jack meant something to me too, Hurley.”

There’s a brief pause, and then Hurley nods. “Yeah. I know.”

Desmond turns to Bernard and flashes a welcoming grin. “Good to see you, mate.”

“You too, Desmond. And thanks.” Bernard holds out his hand.

“For what?”

“For what you did for Rose and I.”

Desmond shakes it. “Anytime. Shall we?”

Ben, unsure of his status, watches as they leave. After a few moments, Hurley reemerges from the brush. “Ben - you coming? Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Ben smiles, relief visible on his face. “Yes, I’m coming.”  

Swooshsound FLASHSIDEWAYS

The clink of restaurant dinner rings through the air. Ben, in shirt and tie, takes a sip of wine.

“Your father is wonderful,” Danielle says, laughing. She runs a pearl necklace through her fingers.

“I didn’t know you were a comedian, dad,” Ben says, a smile on his face.

“Me neither,” Roger replies, shrugging. It is apparent that he is having a good time, as a good a time as he has had in years.

Panning out, there are four places set at the table of a fancy Italian restaurant. Dinner is done, and deserts remain half-eaten. A bottle of wine has just been delivered with three glasses.

“None for me,” Roger says as the waiter begins to pour.

Danielle looks at him questioningly. “No?”

Roger glances at Ben. “It’s not good for his health,” Ben says.

“Mom, can I? Please?” Alex asks, pointing to Roger’s glass.

Danielle rolls her eyes good-naturedly. Ben shrugs. “I won’t say anything if you don’t. She did get into Yale, after all.”

“To Yale,” Roger says, raising his soda glass. The other three take their wine glasses and clink in celebration.

“I’m proud of you, Alex,” says Ben. “It was never an easy road… but you earned it.”

“She never could have done it without you,” Danielle says.

“No, no – ”

“He’s right, Dr. Linus,” Alex says, her face blushing from the wine. “You – you’re the reason we’re here tonight. Here, together, like this. Celebrating. It’s almost like we’re family.” She blushes even harder after letting this slip out, and Danielle smiles covertly.

Ben is silent for a moment. There is pain in his eyes, but it is too deep for the others to see or understand. “I don’t deserve that, but thank you…. thank you so much, Alex.”

*
“I like her Ben. Danielle is a classy woman. And single.” Roger and Ben are in Ben’s car driving home. It is evening.

“You didn’t have to drive, dad. I only had a few glasses of wine.”

“Hey, someone’s got to take care of you, remember? Let me drive. I may be sick, but I can still drive.” He looks over at Ben. “And no getting out of the conversation, son. What do you think of Danielle?”

“She’s had a tough life,” Ben replies. “But she’s done a good job of raising Alex.”

“What a wonderful girl she is,” Roger assents, smiling. “Very sweet. Danielle must be a great mom. ”

“Yes,” Ben says. “She would have made a great mom.”

“Would have?” Roger asks. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

Ben looks out the window. His eyes are shining with tears. “I – I guess so,” he says.

The car suddenly swerves, and Ben whips around. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

Roger tries to breath, but his lungs rattle in his chest. He shakes his head in confusion and pain. Ben unbuckles his seat belt and reaches into the back seat.

“Your oxygen,” he stammers, reaching for the potable tank on the backseat floor. The car swerves again as Ben reaches for the tank. His hands turn the knob as he brings the mask forward. He stretches the mask to the front and places it on his father’s face. Roger breathes deeply ---

Suddenly, a flash in Roger’s mind. He is in a van with his son --- Ben putting on a gas mask as he poisons Roger --- Roger REMEMBERS. He remembers his real life. It flashes back to him. Ben as a child. Roger, drunk, yelling at Ben. 

Roger drives off the road and skids in the dirt. The car stops.

“My God, what is it dad?” Ben asks.

Roger looks at Ben for a long time. Tears are in his eyes.

Realization strikes Ben. He looks down, his hands drop the oxygen mask. “You know.”

Roger is weeping. “I-I know.”

“Dad.” Silence. A car whizzes past. Ben’s eyes are closed from the pain of the moment. “Dad. I’m sorry that I killed you.”

Roger’s car door opens. He gets out, runs to a line of trees. They have parked next to a forest. His face is in his hands. Slowly, Ben gets out of the car and walks to his father. With a shaking hand, he touches Rogers back.

“Dad.”

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t all your fault, Ben. I was never a good man.”

“You didn’t deserve to die that way.”

Roger turns. “We all die, son. It’s not about that. It’s about how we lived. And… I didn’t live a very good life.”

“I think you did, dad,” Ben says, his voice weak. “I think you did.” His eyes widen and he nods in the direction of the forest. Roger turns. Standing at the edge of the trees is Ben’s mother – Roger’s wife – smiling. She is wearing the same outfit she did when she gave birth to Ben. The forest seems the same – the side of the road. It all seems to have come full circle.

“My God…” Roger is shaking. “Oh God… son…is she real?”

“She’s real, dad,” Ben says, choking back tears.

Roger walks towards her. He stops before her. “Emily?” His voice is barely a whisper.

“Roger.” She embraces him. They hug tightly.

“I’ve missed you,” Roger says, sobbing. “I missed you…so much.”  

“We’re together now,” Emily says, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We’re together now.”

Roger and Emily turn to face Ben.

“Son… are you coming?”

Ben wipes the tears from his eyes. He wants to speak, but his voice is not there. He looks at his parents. Finally, he manages, “I can’t… not yet. There’s more for me to do here.”

His parents walk up to him. Together, they hug.

Emily cups Ben’s chin her hand. “We love you, son.”

They walk towards the forest, where a bright light is glowing. Just before entering, they turn once more.

“I love you, son,” Roger says.

“I love you too,” Ben whispers.

And then they are gone.

Swooshsound ISLANDTIME

Bernard leads the group through a reed forest. They walk in silence as a wind gently rustles the reeds. Bernard stops and leans against his walking stick.

“Jack’s down there, just beyond those trees.”

Hurley stares in the direction indicated by Bernard. His voice is hesitant. “Is Jack’s body…?”

“He needs to be buried soon,” Bernard says softly. “I covered him. My canoe is banked to the north of here. We can use it to take him to the beach… to the gravesite.”

Hurley steps forward. “I’d…like a minute with Jack…if that’s OK.”

The others nod. “Let us know when you’re ready,” Bernard says. “We’ll be right here.”

Hurley walks down a slight slope and makes his way through the jungle. The path is the same that Jack took from the river, and Hurley stops to touch one of the trees. He looks around as if envisioning Jack walking past him, as if he can see Jack’s final journey before his very eyes.

With effort, he continues on. Trepidation fills him, but it crowded out by sorrow. Suddenly, a long breath escapes from his lungs and a pained tenderness crosses his face. He has spotted Jack.

Several paces in front of him Jack’s body lies beneath a cloth, creating a shroud-like appearance. Hurley closes his eyes. His shoulders shudder, and he clutches his arms to his chest.

Opening his eyes, he wipes his face with the back of his hand and approaches the body, kneeling before it. His voice is thick with emotion. “I’m not… not very good with words… but you know that.” He pauses. “Jack, I don’t know if I can do this…I mean, why did the island pick me? I’m not special... I’m just me.” He shakes his head. “So what, I can see ghosts and stuff…I’m not a leader. Not like you.” He drops his gaze to the ground. “It’s not about me, though. It’s just – I need you here, Jack.” Hurley raises his eyes to the body. “I know I said I’d do it… I’d watch the island. But I don’t know if I can….I think... I’m scared.”
*
“I’m ready,” Hurley says, climbing the slope. He looks strained.

Desmond eyes him with concern. “You OK, mate?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Bernard steps forward and pats Hurley on the shoulder. “It will be alright, Hurley.” The group heads toward the body in silence.
*

Ben and Desmond carefully lay the body into Bernard’s canoe. Bernard drops the oars into the water and fights against the waves as Ben and Desmond help clear him from the beach.

“You sure you’ll be OK by yourself?” Desmond calls.

“I’m not as old as I look,” Bernard replies with a smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you there in a few hours. Take care of Vincent!”

Hurley, Desmond and Ben walk along the beach, each in his own thoughts.

*

The four men take turns, two at time, digging Jack’s grave under a pale sky. Desmond looks out to sea during his break, a water bottle in his hand. Ben kneels beside a pair of shackles covered in sand, his gaze thoughtful.

*

The four men stand under a lavender sky as they stare at the pile of fresh dirt marking Jack’s finished grave.

Bernard looks at Hurley. “Hurley… would you like to say a few words?”

“Yeah…sure.” Hurley clasps his hands awkwardly in front of him. “Jack… Jack was a good guy. A real good guy.” Hurley is quiet for a moment. “He was more than that. He was a leader. A friend. He… he never let us down. Never gave up. No matter what, he did what he thought was right – for us. It wasn’t about this island for Jack. It was about... about doing the right thing.”

Hurley continues, his eyes on the grave. “I remember after the plane crash – how he took charge. How he helped save as many lives as he could. How he calmed us all down… told us that everything would be OK… That was Jack.”

“And the time he saved Charlie – beating his chest with his fist when everyone else had given up on him.” Hurley smiles as if astonished by the thought. “Even when Jack failed… like the night he tried to save Boone…” Hurley looks up at the three men listening to him. “He had to be told to quit. Boone… Boone had to tell Jack to let him go… Jack never quit on us…. He never…”

“He never let go, Hurley,” Ben says. “Not until he knew you and everyone he cared about would be safe.”

The crashing of the waves can be heard in the ensuing silence.

“Good-bye, brutha,” Desmond says.

Bernard, Desmond and Ben depart from the grave, leaving Hurley standing alone. The ocean is black in the distance.

*

Desmond gathers his belongings in the red of morning. Hurley sits up and blinks the sleep from his eyes. He looks around.

“Where’s Bernard?”

“Left before the sun went up,” Desmond replies. “He’s got a wife to get back to.”
.

“What about you? Where are you going?”

“I’m do’n the same thing, Hurley. Getting back to my wife.”

Hurley rubs his head. “How, dude? If you didn’t notice, we’re still on an island… sort of in the middle of nowhere, remember?”

Desmond chuckles. “I remember.”

“But wait – I can help… I think. Somehow, I think I can make this work. It doesn’t have to be like it was with Jacob…where we’re all trapped and everything. We’ll figure this out together.”

Desmond smiles. “I’ve got it figured out, Hurley. Bernard left me his canoe.”

Hurley frowns. “You’re going to take the canoe off the island? No way dude. You’ll get like – like – to that spot in the ocean out there and then.. capsize or something.”

Ben’s voice rises from a lean-to nearby. “He’s not taking the canoe into the ocean, Hurley. He’s taking it to the sailboat.”

“He’s right,” Desmond says, his voice lined with distrust at the sounds of Ben’s voice.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. But… still sounds sort of… tricky.”

“I’m a decent sailor, Hurley,” Desmond responds, tightening his pack to his back. “Assuming I can actually get out of this snow-globe, that is.”

“Well, still dude. How will you know where to go? And what about supplies? I’m sure it’s a pretty long sail to… wherever.”

“I know where we can get some supplies. And Widmore’s people must have navigation equipment at their camp,” Ben says, dusting himself off as he approaches Desmond and Hurley. “Assuming Desmond needs it. I have a pretty good idea of where we are. I can point him in the right direction.”

“I don’t need your help,” Desmond says, turning to go.

“You may want to reconsider,” Ben replies. “Widmore’s men are likely watching the shore closely, and I’m certain they’ve found the sailboat by now. It’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

Desmond stares at Ben. “I’d rather take that chance alone then trust you.”

Hurley steps forward. “Dude. If Ben says he can help, he can. And you may want to take him up on it. You want to get home to Penny, right? Ben can help you… he really can.  He’s… crafty. Trust me on this.”

Desmond peers at Hurley. Their gazes meet, and a smile lights in Desmond’s eyes. “There’s something there, Hurley.”

“There’s something where?”

“In you, brutha. You’re going to make a good leader. You’ll do Jack and the rest of us proud.”

“You mean it?”

“Aye, I do.” Desmond clasps Hurley’s arm. Frowning, he turns to Ben. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. Are you?”

Desmond doesn’t answer, but heads towards the canoe. Hurley runs after him.

“Desmond, wait! Is this – like, it?”

“I guess so,” Desmond says. He regards Hurley with a smile. “See you in another life, brutha.”

“Sure,” Hurley says. They hug and Hurley watches Desmond head towards the canoe.

“Ben, wait,” Hurley says, halting Ben in his tracks.

“What is it, Hurley?”

“If – if you change your mind – I mean, about being here, I understand.”

Ben’s face softens. “Hurley – I’m not going anywhere. I chose to stay here for a reason. And I don’t think Desmond would let me off this island even if I did change my mind.”

“Well, if something… if anything happens… and you don’t come back -”

“You mean if I’m killed?”

“Yeah… I guess. Is there anything real important you can tell me right now? Anything I need to know?”

Ben looks at Hurley with a slight smile on his face. “I’ll be back, Hurley. We’ll have plenty of time to talk. I promise.”

“What about what Richard said?”

“What do you mean ‘what Richard said’?”

“Remember when I was trying to convince us all to go to see Locke? Well, I made something up about Jacob telling me to do that. About him being right next to me. And Richard sort of called my bluff.”

“You mean when he asked you to ask Jacob what the island is?”

Hurley nods. “Yeah… it’s been bothering me ever since. The way Richard said it – it was as if it was a place I would recognize…. know what I mean? Like… like hell or something. I mean, I don’t think he expected me to say ‘Jacob says that this is a place with a bright light that sends people back to the seventies’… I think the answer he was expecting was… was something I already know…a place maybe I would have heard of. I mean, why else even ask the question?”

“Are you asking me if I know what the island is, Hurley?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, you and Richard were close. Did he ever tell you?”

Ben peers at Hurley for a moment. “No. Richard never told me.”

“Well… yeah, I guess Richard had his secrets. Or maybe he was lying too.”

“I don’t think he was lying.”

Hurley nods. “Yeah, me neither. But it would just be nice to get some answers, you know?”

“I can tell you what I think this place is, though.”

Hurley suddenly appears uncomfortable. “You’re not going to say hell, are you? Because I think we’re sort of stuck here for a while, and that thought wouldn’t sit too well with me. Especially as the guardian and all.”

“I think you know it’s not hell, Hurley,” Ben replies. “In fact, I think you know more than you realize.” He sees the frustration on Hurley’s face. “Don’t worry – we’ll figure this out together. Just not this minute, OK?”

“OK,” Hurley consents. Ben heads for the canoe.

“But wait – aren’t you going to at least give me a hint?”

Ben looks over his shoulder. “I think there are some things that you’ll need to try to figure out for yourself first, Hurley. I want to teach you – not throw answers at your feet.” Ben waves and heads for the canoe with Desmond in it, who is preparing to disembark.

“Great,” Hurley mutters. He watches as Ben gets into the boat. Hurley waves and Desmond waves back, smiling one last time before turning his focus to rowing. Ben turns and waves as well, and then the canoe dips over a wave and is on its way to Hydra Island. 

Swooshsound FLASHSIDEWAYS

Ben stares at the Church. It is Sunday morning, a bright crisp day, and churchgoers in their Sunday outfits are leaving after Mass. Ben watches the families as they walk past, and his eyes are drawn to a father and daughter holding hands. He watches them go by with an appreciative yet rueful look, and turns his eyes thoughtfully to the ground for a moment.

Exhaling deeply, he stands and nearly bumps into a man looking the other way as he walks. The man turns and looks at Ben in surprise. “Sorry about that, I was lost in thought.”

“Ethan,” Ben gasps.

Ethan looks at Ben quizzically. “Do I know you?” he asks. A horn honks and Ethan looks past Ben. “Mother! I’ll be right there.” Ethan laughs and shakes his head. “She’s always in a hurry.”

“No, you don’t…” Ben’s voice trails off. “You don’t remember me…from the island?”

“The island?” Ethan’s face grows curious. “Did we meet at a conference?”

“I was part the Dharma Initiative, but only for a short time. I left…I left even before you were born.”

“I don’t – I don’t know what island you’re talking about.” Ethan looks at Ben curiously. “The Dharma Initiative? Are you in medicine?” The horn honks again and Ethan shakes his head.

“That’s your mother, honking the horn?”

“Yes.”

“Her name is Amy, right?”

Ethan stares at Ben. “Yes. Do you – do you know her?”

“I do.”

Ethan seems thrown off. “Would you like to say hello to her, then? She’s right over here.”

Ben looks and sees Amy in the car. She is an older woman, dressed well. She waves at Ethan and then points at a watch on her wrist.

“Another time,” Ben says. “I’ll be around for a while.” He smiles and walks off, leaving Ethan watching him in wonderment.

Swooshsound ISLANDTIME

Hurley sits at the beach. He is surrounded by remnants of memory – the lean-tos, the plane wreckage, everywhere there are signs of the people that lived and departed the island, leaving him alone.

He wanders, his hands in his pockets. Occasionally he bends down and picks up a small memento, smiling at the memory it brings.

Finally, he heads back up to the gravesite. He looks over the graves, makes sure that the flowers on Libby’s grave are fresh and then stands beside Jack’s grave again. He turns and stares at the ocean, and then the sky, which is a rich blue.

“I guess I’m not completely alone,” he says to himself. “I mean – I talk to dead people, right? Not that I expect any of you to suddenly pop out of the jungle and say hi or anything – ”

Suddenly, there is a rustle in the brush and Hurley jumps back, startled. A figure emerges, shaded against the sun.

“Who’s there?” Hurley asks, a lump in his throat.

The figure steps into the sunlight. It is a woman – a woman Hurley recognizes. She looks tired and worn, and dried blood is plastered on her right leg. Two young children stand closely behind her.

“I know you,” Hurley says. “From the temple. And – you’re not a spirit,” he adds, his voice dropping awkwardly.

“I’m Cindy,” the woman answers. “And this is Zach and Emma. Our people were attacked, and then there was the earthquake…everyone is dead or gone and we’ve been wandering the island…the children are sick and hungry. Can you help us?”

Hurley’s brows rise nervously. He makes a fist, and then releases it. “I can do this,” he whispers to himself. “Yeah, I can do this.”

“Yeah,” he replies with conviction. “C’mon with me. I’ll get you some food and water.”

“Thank you,” Cindy says, her voice flooding with relief. Taking the children by the hand, she follows Hurley towards camp.

The view remains on Jack’s grave as Hurley and the others leave the scene, and in the silence one senses an approval from Jack’s spirit and a passing of the guard to Hurley.  


LETTING GO: THE END





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